


Distinction

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim comes home to <i>his</i> Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distinction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ritsuko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/gifts).



> A/N: Little present for darling Ritsuko’s bday. Special thanks to abbeyjewel for betaing. ♥
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He doesn’t head straight home, even though there’s no proof that his communication was received. The Vulcan colonies are scattered, under prepared, trying their best but struggling, and even if the message did go through, there’s no way to know if they could spare anyone. To Jim, it’s worth the risk, and he heads not for his own apartment but Spock’s.

Not the Spock of his time, of course. That one goes straight to the Academy, Uhura hot on his heels, leaving Jim to say goodbye to Bones and feeling curiously alone. The first step off his ship is always an unsettling one, but breaks back on Earth are still mandatory. He’s heard enough from Scotty about how they need the refits and from Bones about how everyone needs a little R&R. Jim would just as soon stay in space for ever, but then, if he were always on the move, he’d never see _his_ Spock, and that’s more than worth his time.

He’s full of anticipation on the lift up to the thirty-seventh floor, knowing, somehow, that Spock did make it. He can practically feel his lover’s presence in the fresh Earth air, calling to him like a beacon. He follows the enticing aroma down the hall, through the self-opening doors that recognize his signature. He finds Spock sitting on the couch in the living space, looking up from a PADD just as Jim comes through the doorway.

“You should’ve called,” Spock comments, his familiar, gravelly voice filling up Jim’s chest. “I would’ve met you at spacedock.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Jim insists, already heading right for the couch as he drops his bags on the floor about him. Spock’s eyes sweep over them, noticing but not bothering to point it out—Jim will clean up later when the greetings are out of the way. For now, it’s all he can do not to break into a run and tackle Spock to the ground. Being apart is always hard.

Being together is so _easy._ Jim comes right up to Spock’s knees and bends in for a kiss, Spock leaning up just enough to brush their mouths together. The arched shape of Spock’s lips is such a welcome caress. It’s only chaste, light, and as Jim pulls back again, he murmurs, “I’m glad you came.”

Spock says simply, “I will always come, while you still want me.”

Jim snorts. But he still straightens enough to pull his gold tunic over his head as he chides, “I’ll always want you.” The uniform top joins his bags on the floor, and he starts on the black undershirt beneath.

“You should be with the other Spock. The one of your own world.” True to Vulcan, there’s no sadness in Spock’s voice, though Jim knows it must be lurking there. He doesn’t want to have the same argument again—he doesn’t _care_ how much older this Spock is. Vulcans are long lived, anyway. He might outlast Jim yet.

It’s easier to say, “That Spock is still with Uhura.”

“It won’t last.”

Jim, shirtless and working down his fly, sends Spock a scolding glance. It’s not his place to break his crew up, and anyway, that Spock isn’t the _same_. He likes _this_ one. He feels close to his first officer, too, but with this Spock he has such a strong, unbreakable connection. When he looks into his Spock’s eyes, he sees a love so deep it’s almost terrifying. When he’s slithered out of his pants, left in boxers and socks, he slips into Spock’s lap, weight dropping to Spock’s thighs and knees digging into the couch. He brushes the back of his fingers down Spock’s cheek while his lips kiss the other one, and he murmurs, final: “I want _you_.”

Spock dons that tiny little smile the other one would never wear. He knows Jim so well, and yet he still seems to find new amusement in Jim’s antics. Jim chuckles, “Besides, I don’t want you to be lonely.” He rocks his hips as he says it, grinding his crotch against Spock’s through all the thick Vulcan robes, hiding too much of Spock’s beauty. He’s old, yes, but he’s no less handsome for it: the years have chiseled him away into some ethereal alien statue that Jim still finds intoxicating. Jim draws his tongue over the seam of Spock’s lips, not so much bidding them to open as memorizing their feel.

Spock’s arm lifts to hold his waist, drawing him in, and the other pets up his shoulders. Spock sighs quietly, “I had many years of love.” Jim knows; he saw it.

But that’s over now, and he still insists, hushed and powerful, “No Spock should ever be without a Kirk.” As for the Spock in his time... that one will just have to learn to share. When he’s ready, when he wants it. This Spock will understand, and Jim... Jim couldn’t say no to anyone with these eyes, these cute ears and this alluring face. His hands run down Spock’s chest, coming to rest at Spock’s crotch, and he plays with the part in Spock’s robes, knowing Spock can stop him but won’t.

He parts them open, pushing the long fabric back from Spock’s lap. The trousers below are loose and easy to unlace, and Spock watches silently while Jim works, until Jim’s reaching in to the front of Spock’s pants, pulling out the long, thick cock that’s waiting for him. It’s already semi-hard in his hands, the crowning head pink and green with its blush. Jim runs his fingers lovingly down the base while Spock’s hands reach Jim’s hips, fingers hooking into his boxers to gently tug them down. As the fabric’s pulled over the hump of his ass, he purrs, “I knew you’d be here. I prepared myself for it.”

“So impatient,” Spock sighs, but there’s approval, there. Jim likes a good risk, but he also likes to play it better safe than sorry. Spock’s fingers duck into his crack all the same, running up and down to test just how thorough Jim’s job was. The slick lube is still clinging to him, rubbed into the puckered entrance of his channel, and he can feel that he’s still stretched enough. It was an empty walk here, but modern tools made it easy enough to do this last minute, quick and easy. It’s left him ready for the taking, and he rises on his knees, hovering over Spock’s lap. Spock holds him open.

Then Jim lowers down, guiding Spock’s dick inside with his hands, groaning all the while. The bulbous tip always feels so _good_ going in, and it sparks an electric jolt through their connection. Jim’s own cock twitches in the air between them, the head pressing messily into Spock’s robes. He’ll lick the stain away later. For now, he concentrates on taking everything of Spock he can. He sinks lower, bit by bit, until he’s full of Spock’s thick, pulsing cock, seeming to vibrate inside him in that special Vulcan way. Spock’s precum is already oozing out, mixing with the lube, and Jim’s stretched walls fluctuate to suck at and house the familiar presence. It’s been too long since he had this, and he has to stop himself from trying to beg, again, that Spock come with him.

Spock wraps strong arms around his waist, steadies him, and rubs their noses together in some strange, adorable forgotten custom that makes Jim want to laugh. He nuzzles back while he adjusts to the cock inside him. He _missed this._

He murmurs, “I missed you,” and starts to move. His thighs tighten, knees clamped at Spock’s sides, and lifts just enough to let Spock’s length slide through him, almost out, and then he rocks back in, rolling his hips along Spock’s curve, pushing his body back in to grind at Spock’s base. Spock’s breath hitches: a small loss of control. Jim _craves_ moments like that and goes again, slides off and pushes down, taking Spock’s fullness inside him through the hot pressure of his ass. Spock feels different than anyone else ever has inside him, and it isn’t just because of the way their bond surges when they connect their bodies. There’s a uniqueness to Spock’s body, a certain texture and warmth that makes Jimshiver in delight. A part of him wants to bounce wildly up and down, like it always does, fuck himself hard on Spock’s body, but the rest of him is tired from the ride and just wants to _feel_ Spock, go slow and make love and lie in the blissful feeling of being joined. He slumps forward, his arms locking around Spock’s neck, and he grinds himself into Spock’s body over and over, riding Spock just right.

He finds the right angle by accident, but tries to repeat it every time, the extra burst of pleasure making him tremble and moan. Spock’s hands pet his back before one comes around his front, fingers curling around his shaft. Spock strokes him lightly in tandem with Jim’s own thrusts, and that throws of Jim’s rhythm at first, makes him whimper a little keening noise and canter his hips forward, but he regains his pace soon enough. Then it’s just taking what Spock gives and giving in return, while Spock gently kisses his face.

When Spock’s arm tightens along Jim’s back, he holds on better, too. Spock picks him up, still inside him but holding his weight, and lowers them carefully sideways and down. Jim’s placed along the couch. In a few seconds, Spock’s looming over him, up on all fours, with Jim’s legs hiked up in the air around his body. Still impaled, Jim arches off the cushions and moans at the new position, rutting his hips back when he can.

Spock keeps stroking his cock and now moves back to meet Jim as much as Jim does. Their hips roll together as one, faces nuzzling until Jim gasps, “ _Spock_ —” And then Spock’s at his lips, and they’re kissing properly, all lazy tongue and soft lips. Spock tastes like Jim remembers: like home.

He would go on forever if he could, but he’s young and excitable, even when he’s tired and too content. Under Spock’s talented touches, he comes undone, arches again and opens his mouth wide. His breath hitches when he means to cry out, his cock spurting in Spock’s fingers, splashing between Spock’s robes and his bare stomach. Spock strokes him through it, milking him out and pointing his cock back against his bellybutton to minimize the stains. As Spock’s hips keep moving, so do Jim’s, and the make love straight through it, Spock still hard inside him.

Even drained from the orgasm, Jim is happy to have Spock make love to him. He knows Spock could go on for ages, now that he’s started, and that’s the way Jim wants to be, lying here spent and satiated and used all the same. It’s more proof of their connection, something beyond the human plane. He finds Spock’s hand at his side and lifts it, slick with cum though it is, to spread against his own face, lining it to his meld points. He smiles at Spock, who seems to understand.

Spock presses gently into his mind, opening the connection, and Jim settles in for a long, warm night of melds and sex, flowing on forever.


End file.
